Welcome to The Hearty fig

Here, we explore what it means to be both Soft & Self-Assured. Sensitive & Centered. Tender & Tough.

I believe being naturally sensitive is an incredible strength - one that helps us feel empathy, connect authentically, and build deep relationships.

I also know that empathy and compassion are exhaustible resources when they don't come with boundaries; if you’re constantly giving without refueling, it’s impossible to feel grounded or emotionally full. The well runs dry.

Think of all the energy you pour into making sure that the people you love feel cared for, and have what they need. Imagine if you were that generous with yourself.

Thankfully, it doesn’t have to be one or the other. You can keep showing up fully for the people in your life, and still protect your own emotional reserves.

It’s not being stingy or holding back; it’s about giving in a way that honors your boundaries, and fills your tank.

The Hearty Fig is here to help you hone a sense of self-trust and self-understanding that’s strong enough to ground you, and steer you toward the way you want to feel – all without letting go of the natural warmth and softness that make you you.

Here, you can expect to find weekly posts that touch on a few key parts of that process, including: shifting your mindset, doing some focused self-work, choosing a direction, and, taking time for reflection.

Feeling ready to jump in?

Join the Community!

Join a circle of fellow compassionate women (and men!) who understand what it means to naturally be sensitive, and who feel driven to channel that softness into courage, connection, and strength. I send letters, encouragement, and gentle progress check-ins a few times each month. Join us!

Me and My Story

I'm Michelle, an INFJ with a love of office supplies, tina fey, and misheard song lyrics. I created The hearty fig to be the haven i wish i'd had IN my first 'real' relationship.

I've known my whole life that I'm a sensitive person. Wanting to help, noticing how people around me are feeling, and craving harmony have always been part of my DNA.

As I've gotten older, I've started to see that natural softness as a real gift - one that helps me feel deeply, give generously, and connect authentically. Even if it means occasionally crying at Amazon Prime commercials in public.

However, one relationship in my early twenties also showed me some of the ways this softness can become a blindspot if we're not careful. In that relationship, I believed there was room for exactly one Strong, Decisive person and one Soft, Sensitive person; he was clearly the former, and so I pigeonholed myself as the latter.

I believed the louder voice earned the right to be the decider, and so I embraced the role of accommodater. I began internalizing disagreement as conflict (and avoiding it at all costs!), taking a backseat to someone else decisions, and pouring all my energy into finding ways to be ok with them... for harmony's sake.

And then somewhere along the way, I (accidentally) became so focused on trying to understand and meet someone else’s wants and needs that slowly, my own life and decisions started to reflect my partner's priorities more than my own. For a while, I thought that made me "flexible" and "a great partner."

These experiences taught me so much, and pushed me to expand my definition of what it looks like to be compassionate and sensitive. I started wrestling with, and slowly letting go of, the idea that showing compassion demands quieting our voice, or burying the things we want for ourselves.

Because the truth is, it's all part of what makes us whole: the strength and the gentleness, together. The heart that wants to give, and the confidence that lets set boundaries without apology. The instinct to be generous, and the unshakable belief in our worth.

It took me too long to believe that we are made to take up space, and that healthy relationships won't ask us to make ourselves smaller. Now, I want to make sure as many fellow sensitive people as possible understand, believe, and live that idea, too.